The Fat And The Furious
by The-Onyx-LoLita
Summary: Harry Potter's life is in danger, again but this time, Voldemort has the help of Harry's fat cousin, Dudley Dursley as well as his furiously, ginger friend, Ron Weasley.
1. Chapter One: Anonymous

Anonymous.

Voldemort

A group of men were sat on mahogany chairs that formed the shape of a circle.

A man in a grey jacket stood to his feet. "Welcome, fellow members of the Harry Potter Haters Anonymous. Or, as I like to call it, the HPHA." He sniffed loudly and wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve, gave it a nasty look and hastily wiped it on his behind. "My name is Kyle."

The rest of the men in the group all chorused: 'Hello Kyle' in tones that sounded very similar to those of boredom.

"Thank you, men. Now," he slapped his hands together and rubbed them against each other, "how has this 'famous Potter' ruined your lives?" He asked, making air-quotations when he spoke the words famous and potter. He took a seat, waiting for one of the other members of the group to begin talking.

A man in a long black cloak with a big hood on top that covered his face in shadow, stood to his feet. "I'm Thomas." He said in a solemn voice.

"Hello, Thomas." The group chorused in the same flat tone that they had done previously for Kyle.

"How has this…Potter boy affected your life, Thomas." Kyle asked, placing his hands in a steeple like manner on his raised knee.

Thomas clenched his fist. "The Potter boy has not just affected my life, he _destroyed_ my life! Sixteen years - _wasted_!" He cried, the pain in his voice obvious.

"He destroyed mine too!" A blond teenager shouted. "He never does anything he is supposed to and yet, that old fool, Dumbledore, can't see that he does any wrong. The sun shines out of his arse!" He spat, clenching his fist and stomping his foot onto the floor.

"Please, introduce yourself first!" Kyle sighed, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Draco!" The boy shouted before sitting back down.

All the rest of the group chorused again.

Thomas was still standing but was now paying close attention to the boy that had just stood before him. 'He's still young. Easily steered and obviously fuelled by hatred.' He mused. The young boy would be easy to manipulate. He would do all his bidding. The dirty work within Hogwarts grounds.

"He has ruined my life more than yours!" A fat boy shouted. His hair was greasy and slicked down over his enormously fat head, forced to stretch over it like his shirt was forced to stretch over his ball-of-a-stomach. "I'm Dudley, by the way." he added onto the end of his sentence shyly.

Once again, the whole group chorused with their hellos.

"Oh, shut up you sniffling fools!" Thomas shouted, throwing one of his arms out. "And, young Dudley, how exactly did this boy ruin your life worse than either Draco's or mine were ruined?" A snide grin was forming on the face underneath his hood.

Dudley stared at him, his mouth a jar with surprise and fear. "He…He stole my bedroom!" Dudley gasped, looking around him for some sort of help.

Thomas chuckled with a laugh that had sinister undertones. "So, you are the muggle cousin, aren't you?" He asked.

Dudley nodded hastily. "I am his cousin, yes."

"Thomas, being a muggle or wizard is irrelevant to these meeting sessions." Kyle said calmly.

"Quiet!" Thomas hissed, pulling out his wand and pointing it at Kyle's forehead. _"Avada Kedavra!" _Thomas shouted, casting the spell of death.

Kyle fell to the floor, in a limp and lifeless heap.

"Whose next?" Thomas asked, pretending to blow the end of his wand like it was smoking.

"Who are you?" Asked and elderly man, who was now gripping his walking stick for comfort.

Thomas threw the hood off of his head to reveal a smooth, white head underneath. His eyes were small, red and had slits for pupils. His nose was almost non-existent apart from the two lines in the middle of his face that formed nostrils. "I am Lord Voldemort!" He cackled, raising his wand and throwing spells furiously around the room, killing people left-right-and-centre.

Dudley was curled up under his chair, whimpering in fear when Voldermort found him.

"Stand, you filthy muggle! Die like a man!" Voldermort said in a stern voice.

Dudley staggered to his feet.

Voldermort pointed a wand at Dudley's head.

Draco snickered from Voldermort's side. "Ready to say goodbye, muggle?" He asked, his face twisting with an evil smile.

"Wait." Voldermort said, holding a finger in the air in front of Draco's face. "Maybe this boy could be of use." Voldermort said.

Draco gave him a look of disgust. "A muggle! Of use to us?!" He shrieked in a high pitched tone.

"Yes, Draco. A muggle." Voldermort snidely added.

Dudley gazed at them with an expression wild with confusion and fear.


	2. Chapter Two: A Toad For Your Thoughts

A Toad For Your Thoughts.

Ron Weasley

Ron sat in the Great Hall, listening to whatever was needed to be said in the opening meeting that was held on the first day of every year. Listening but not really hearing. He was gazing at the amazing beauty across the table that was Hermione. He wished that she would realise just how much he cared about her.

The feast was announced and food magically appeared upon the plates that were laid out on the four grand tables in the Great Hall.

Ron grabbed some chicken off one plate and some mashed potatoes off of another. "I'm starving!" He just managed to mumbled through a mouthful of both of the previously stated foods.

"The sorting hat seems to get more and more tatty each year." Hermione stated from across the table, sending slightly disgusted looks at Ron filling his face with everything and everything.

Ron's ears pricked up, metaphorically, at the sound of her voice. "It is an old hat, Hermione! It isn't going to look all shiny and sparkly." He said sarcastically, waving his hands around, improvising sparkly-ness.

Hermione made a noise within her throat that sounded a lot like a 'Hmph'. "Well, I think that one these days it is going to fall apart." She said in her normal hoity-toity tone that she always used for just about any situation.

Harry stared at Ron, a seemingly guilty look on his face as he gnawed his way through a leg of chicken. "The food hasn't seem to taste as good anymore." Harry mused, rolling the bone over and over in his hands.

"The food at this place always tastes bloody good!" Ron replied, spewing small bits of chicken and potato onto the table in front of him.

Hermione looked down her nose at the chewed up mesh on the table. "I can see that's what you think." She said whilst turning a strangely pale shade of green.

Harry rolled his eyes and furrowed his brow. "You know what I mean, Ron. Since He's come back, nothing tastes as sweet as it used to. Not even…" Harry, quickly looked askance at Hermione beside him. "…The dessert! Yeah. The blueberry pies and stuff." He hastily said after a few seconds, his face becoming a pale pink.

Ron raised an eyebrow at him and tried to throw any negative thoughts out of his mind. "I still think the chicken tastes better. Not much of a sweet tooth me." Ron muttered, staring down at the now unappetising food on his plate.

Ginny gave Harry a look of surprise from his other side.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and continued to shovel chicken into this mouth.

Ron dragged his feet up the stairs to his dormitory. What a great first day this had turned out to be. First of all, Hermione had seemed to be paying less attention to him than usual, then Harry had made an obvious comment to Hermione about something 'not tasting so sweet' whilst gazing into her eyes. And thirdly, the bloody Fat Lady was being her usual, obnoxious self. Her was awful, why could she not hear that? She was singing loudly, as usual, and refused to let anybody in for their good night's sleep until they had all applauded her appalling voice. Ron wanted to hit her around her oil-painted face, although, he wasn't sure that she would have felt anything, what with her being a painting. She'd probably run away and hide in some other painting anyway.

He threw himself down onto his bed, throwing the pillow onto the floor and throwing his face down onto the mattress. Hermione and Harry obviously had a thing going on. Did she not see how much he cared for her? Was she that unobservant? Or had he not made enough of an effort?

He sighed. Truth was, he had never really tried to tell her. He had been too afraid of her reaction but he always felt that he made his feelings obvious.

"Have you seen Trevor?" Neville asked, running into the dormitory and pulling up all the drapes on the beds, looking under all the beds. "Come on, Trevor. Daddy loves you!" He cried, frantically running all around the room.

"I haven't seen your frog!" Ron replied, feeling angry and frustrated that Neville had walked in upon his brooding.

"Toad!" Neville said back in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Same thing!" Ron spat back. He then picked up the pillow off of the floor and placed over the back of his head. "Leave me alone!" His grumbles muffled through the pillow. His love for Hermione out-weighed that of the 'love' that Neville felt for his stupid toad! His stupid, slimy toad. And that stupid, slimy Potter had stolen Ron's love, Hermione!

Ron gritted his teeth and gripped the pillow tightly around his head. He needed to think of a way to get her back. A certain thing that only he could do.

Something slimy touched his hand. Ron let out a high-pitched scream, threw the pillow and slimy thing away before backing away into the corner of his bed.

"Trevor!" Neville gasped, running over to the heap of brown/green that laid on Ron's duvet. "It's ok, Trevor. Daddy's here!" He picked up the toad and gave it a kiss.

Ron made a gagging noise. "No matter how much you kiss it, Neville, it will never turn into a prince!"


	3. Chapter Three: Can't Get Enough Of Voldy

Can't Get Enough Of Voldy. 

Voldemort

"Ok, Dudley. I want you to go down there and get my package." Voldemort said, pointing down a small cobbled street with a wonky sign with a hand pointing it's index finger down the street with the words 'Knockturn Alley' written upon the black sleeve in white writing.

Dudley stood on the spot, rubbing his hands together whilst his teeth were chattering in fear.

"Are you not going to go in?" Voldemort asked, his face distorting into an expression of anger.

Dudley shook his head and whimpered.

"Why not?" Voldemort spat, clenching his fists.

"I-I-I'm _scared_!" He cried, his knees shaking violently whilst his teeth continued to chatter.

Voldemort rolled his eyes. "Never get a muggle to do a wizard's job!" He muttered under his breath. Why had he had a sudden change of heart and decided that this muggle _might _have actually have been of _use _to him? He could see now that he probably wasn't going to be of any use to him at all. He had to choose the most stupid muggle out of the whole muggle world to be his sidekick upon this journey. Had he purely just chosen him because he was a muggle who actually hated Potter almost as much as he did?

"Hello there, Handsome." A woman with long, blonde hair said. She was dressed in a tight, sleeveless shirt and a short leather skirt. Her face was completely plastered with make-up so that her actual identity was almost undistinguishable.

Voldemort's eyes widened in fear. "Ermm…" He looked around him quickly, to see that Dudley had disappeared. He screwed his face up into an annoyed expression. "I have important business to do." He replied before trying to walk past her as quickly as he could, pulling the hood further over his head, hindering his vision slightly.

She grabbed hold of his arm. "Come on! I am sure that you have time for little Patricia here. Even between your evil biddings." She said sweetly, smiling broadly.

Voldemort's mouth fell open. "I am afraid I am too busy." He said hastily.

"Oh, come on. A man of your evil genius needs some 'rewards' every now and then." She said, slyly, licking her lips and trying to push her chest into his face.

Voldemort tried to turn away and run but this woman had a tight grip upon his forearm. "I-I am afraid that I do not want any of the things that you may be able to offer me." He gasped, trying very hard not to squeal in fear at this woman harassing him. He was the Dar Lord! Women shouldn't be harassing his for such mundane things.

"Of course you do." She pushed her body against his. "All men want sexual experiences every now and again." She positively purred.

"_I _am no ordinary man, _Patricia_!" Voldemort shouted back.

She stepped back slightly, shocked for a second. After she had recovered, she continued her assault. "Come on! You know that you want me!" She chortled.

"No! I am-"

"Oh, come on. I only charge ten Galleons." She said, blinking her eyes rapidly.

"I don't care how much you charge! I am _not paying_!" Voldemort almost squeaked.

Dudley suddenly appeared out of nowhere with a note in his hand. "I'll give you ten quid-"

"I am sorry, love but I do have standards." She said, giving Dudley the once over.

He rolled his eyes. "I will give you ten quid if you leave us alone." Although he was putting on a brave and arrogant front, Voldemort could see Dudley's knees shaking rapidly as though he was about to collapse.

"Do you not have _wizard money_?" She asked, sneering at the paper in Dudley's hand.

"No. I don't. Will you leave us alone now?" Dudley asked. His bottom lip was beginning to tremble and it was almost a sure deal that if this went on for much longer, he was going to break down into tears and begin to grovel upon his knees.

"OK! I'll take it! I just hope that Gringotts will be able to exchange it." She hissed, snatching the money out of Dudley's hand and storming away, her heels tapping angrily on the cobbled floor as she did so.

Voldemort turned to Dudley. "Thank you." He said, immediately regretting it. Lord Voldemort never said thank you, let alone to muggles.

"It's ok. I am stuck with you anyway, considering the fact you _kidnapped _me!" Dudley said, almost crying.

"_Mugglenapped_! For the last time, I _mugglenapped_ you!" Voldemort grumbled, storming away down the street towards Borgin And Burkes.

Dudley came scampering behind him. "At least I helped you get away from that lady-"

"That witch was _not _a lady!" He shuddered. "Women like that make my skin crawl. All they want is penis!" He cried.

Dudley fell silent and began to twiddle his thumbs, trying his best to walk and twiddle at the same time without falling over Voldemort's billowing cloak.


	4. Chapter Four: The Boy Who'll Live?

The Boy Who'll Live?

Ron Weasley

It was the morning of the first day and Ron was, once again, sat opposite Harry and the beautiful Hermione. Whilst she chewed on her toast, waiting for her standard edition of the Daily Prophet, she turned to Harry and smiled at him, almost in a reassuring way, Ron thought.

"Oh, I think I need my agony Aunt!" Harry blurted out, placing a hand to his forehead.

She turned back to her toast but squeezed his hand with her free one.

Ron felt anger bubble up within him. If you could have seen them, you would have understood. She was an amazing beauty. A princess that glistened without the help of any jewels. Then… there was Harry. The 'Famous Potter' whom everyone loved and adored. But just look at his face! It was awful! He had beer-glass-bottoms on his eyes and a hideous, deformed scar on his head. Oh, yes! The Potter was famous but fame doesn't always pay kindly. With him being so famous, it would be hard fro him to make him disappear easily. If Harry Potter suddenly went missing, then there would be uproar. Ron was sure of it. Maybe, if he could pass it off as the work of Voldemort…

"Ron! Are you listening?" Hermione shouted over his evil plotting.

"Sorry." He replied shyly.

Hermione shook her head, clutching the Daily Prophet under one of her arms and her books under the other. "I am going now, if you have anything to say to me, say it now before I leave!"

'_Funny you should say that.' _Ron thought. "Hermione, can you meet me somewhere tonight?" He asked, colour and heat flushing into his pale, freckled face. "I-I wanted to talk." His feet had suddenly become exceedingly interesting as the shuffled along the floor underneath the table.

"Of course. The common room?" She asked, beaming at him.

Ron shuffled in his seat with excitement. Finally, he would get to tell her how much he cared for her. "Yes please. Fireplace?"

Hermione nodded. "Ok. Eight-ish?"

Ron beamed manically. "Yeah."

She turned and walked briskly from the room, leaving Ron in his own little world of dreams.

Ron was sat upon his bed in the dormitories of Gryffindor, dreaming to himself about how much he adored the woman of his dreams, Hermione Granger. She had never seemed to notice him before but now, she had promised to meet him in front of the fire in the common room tonight. Maybe he could put 'the moves' on her. Show her how much he really cared. He smiled to himself. 'Oh, how I would love that!' He thought, knowing that by now he would look like he was high on something. High on love.

He was sat in front of the fireplace hours later, still waiting for Hermione.

"I don't think she's coming, Ron." Seamus said, rubbing his eyes sleepily from the entrance to the stairs that lead to the boys dormitory.

Ron knew he was right, after all, how many are two hours late for a 'date' without any notice of any sort?

He sighed, feeling angry and upset at the same time. He remembered that both Harry and Hermione had left the common room at around the same time earlier that night.

Ron gritted his teeth. 'They are having a secret relationship!' He mentally spat. His brow was furrowed and hi fists were balled tight. He didn't care how he was going to do it but he was going to make Harry Potter pay.

'I _hate _him!' Ron turned briskly, muttering: "The boy who _lived_, huh?" under his breath and stomping upstairs to bed.


	5. Chapter Five: Make War, Not Love

Make War, Not Love-

Voldemort-

Voldemort walked through one of the corridors of Hogwarts school. It was all to easy for him. He had found the secret entrance from the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. The Whomping Willow had been something of a distraction…Dudley had nearly lost his head. One thing that Voldemort could say for that old tree was the fact that it had a great right-hand. Or was it right-branch? Whichever, it would have beaten any who stood before it. (And it did…constantly.)

"Why did you bring me along?" Dudley asked, sounding shy and quite. "Not that I'm complaining. I am just confused as to why."

"Bait. Battering. Whatever. You're just here." Voldemort said in an emotionless voice. "Oh! And you made quite a good pillow last night. Comfy for one's bald head."

There was the sound of footsteps ahead.

Voldemort threw his arm in front of Dudley to stop him moving, watching as the silhouette came into view. "Ah! A ginger boy! Must be a Weasley!" He said in a confident tone.

Dudley gave him a look of confusion and almost delirious fear.

Voldemort shrugged his shoulders. "Weasley's are notoriously ginger." He stated before walking over towards the boy.

They stopped, frozen with fear and shock. "How did you get in here?" He asked in a shaky voice.

"Never mind that. Tell me your name." Voldemort said, pointing his wand in the boy's face.

"Ron Weasley." He replied, swallowing hard and staring at the piece of wood that was poking his nose.

"Ah. The Weasley boy whom is so close to Potter."

Ron made a snorting sound in disagreement.

"You send letters to him all summer! I have seen them!" Dudley blurted.

Ron nodded his head. "Yes. I did."

"Then tell me where the boy is." Voldemort said, pushing the wand against Ron's face with more force, causing his nose to be pushed back against his face.

Ron snickered. "I gladly would. Believe me, I would. But, at this moment in time, I am actually searching for him myself." He replied, looking mildly arrogant. The fear was still showing throw his failing façade of bravery.

"Really? I thought you were his best friend? Why would _you _of all people need to look for _him_?" Voldemort asked, sounding less enthusiastic than he felt. Something weird was definitely happening. Weasley was planning on deceiving Potter, if he could, to the boy's worst enemy. His arch nemesis. Something major must have happened for them to be acting like this towards each other.

"Because he is being a bloody idiot, that's why." Ron retorted, folding his arms and pulling a face like a smacked bottom.

"Oh, really? More than usual then?" Voldemort enquired again, moving the wand slowly away from Ron's face, giving him a little more ease of breathing.

"Yeah." Ron choked, almost grinning. "He's hiding something from me. And I think I know what it is." His face distorted into one of sadness and gazing at the floor below his feet.

"And what is that then?" Voldemort asked, placing his wand under Ron's chin to make him look at his face.

Ron gritted his teeth. "He is having a secret relationship with the girl I love!" He spat back.

Voldemort snickered and shook his head from side to side. "These…_women_ are worth less than they are made out to be." He said. "Personally, I think love is the cause of most of our problems." He felt a stab in his chest at these words. Love was useless. It was futile. A life with love was one not worth living. It caused only pain and insanity. Friendship was futile too. Now, leadership, that was where the money was these days. The days of 'Whoo! Let's be best friends for life and braid each others hair and paint each others nails' were long gone. (Not that Voldemort did any of _those _things when he had friends…more like: 'If you don't bake me a cake, I kill you by pushing my wand up your nose.')

"You don't understand!" Ron shrieked in a pained manner, "She is worth more than anything to me and that _Harry Potter _is getting all the glory again. Just 'cos he's the _famous _one! With all his money and-and…_fame_!"

"Ermm…I think you already stated he was famous." Voldemort said, placing a hand upon the frustrated teen's shoulder. "Fear not, young Weasley, I have a way of you being able to get this…_girl_, that you so obviously desire." He leaned closer to Ron, so that he could whisper into his ear. "When you discover the whereabouts of Potter, send sparks up into the air with your wand and I shall some running to slaughter the filthy slug." Voldemort turned away and walked out of the building, Dudley hot on his trail.

"Do you really think that love is worthless?" Dudley asked in an all too-inquisitive voice.

Voldemort turned around quickly to see him twiddling his thumbs once again. Voldemort made an annoyed grumbling sound under his breath. "Would you please stop doing that? It is most irritating when one is trying to plot evil." He sighed and rubbed his long-nailed-finger across his forehead, trying to ease the newly formed headache that he had just acquired.

"I didn't use to believe that love was worthless but things within my life time have made me see the light." He said in a frustrated tone. "Why do you want to know anyway?" He snapped, turning to stare at Dudley.

The boy was shaking violently, his body rippling with fear. "Just wondering." He replied.

That was all the either of them said to each other whilst they walked back to their hiding place.


	6. Chapter Six: Wand Over Willy

Wand Over Willy-

Ron Weasley-

Ron walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, thinking over the proposition that Voldemort had just given to him. Finding Harry for himself was one thing but finding him to help Voldemort was another thing. Voldemort would kill Harry if he found him. Ron had said that he would kill him but he hadn't really meant it. But Voldemort did and always had done.

Ron thought back to the potions lesson that he had had earlier that day. It had seemed like such a jolly atmosphere. Even Harry and Draco had stopped fighting enough for Hermione to be smiling. She was even beaming when Snape had walked past the desk.

Ron had not been smiling at that precise moment in time, Snape had just hit round the head with a rather hard textbook. (Well made and leather bound.)

Hermione had positively been giggling like a very young and giddy school girl.

He has wanted to kiss her right there and then. He found her so attractive when she was happy and smiling. But obviously, a snog during potions was not permitted.

'Come to think of it,' Ron thought, 'there was not a sad face among our group within that potions lesson.' Neville had even been happy, even though he had lost his toad. Maybe he had forgotten that he had lost his toad. That would be typical Neville behaviour.

Ron was now walking outside in the cold air. He felt that it reflected his feelings. Cold and empty, with the odd 'jump' that was the bitter breeze. If she really was with Harry, was there any hope for Ron at all? Could he really hope to win her over?

He was just walking past a small building that was usually deserted but tonight, it had one of it windows lit and two silhouettes stood in front of it.

'Not very discreet.' Ron thought, running over to the building and trying best to keep out of sight. His curiosity had taken over and making his legs move rather than his own conscious thought. They say that curiosity killed the cat…Ron was just hoping that it didn't't kill the Weasley too.

"You know that this is wrong." A voice said from inside the room.

'_Hermione?!__'_Ron thought, his heart jumping in his chest at the sound of her voice. 'What is she doing in there?' He thought, creeping around the building, plastering his body against it. He peered through the window. He wasn't in a position where he could see who Hermione was with but he could see her. She was scantily clad in lacy black underwear and nothing else. Ron had to adjust his trousers slightly.

"I mean…what would Dumbledore say?" Hermione continued running her fingers through her hair.

'I am pretty sure that Dumbledore wouldn't mind, Hermione. After all, his beloved Potter if finally getting what he really deserves.' Ron though, grimacing at the images that were flashy over his eyes. He changed the image of Harry to himself, letting the goofy grin that his face could muster wash over his profile. How he would so love that.

"Dumbledore doesn't have to know." Said another voice that Ron recognised. A voice that made him think of large, well made books and horrible smells. Greasy hair and sweeping robes.

"Professor-"

"Shhh!" The second voice spoke again.

Ron turned his head just in time to see whom he had feared. Severus Snape.

Hermione turned towards Snape and kissed him on the lips whilst he held her tightly.

'That's why she has suddenly started to enjoy potions!' Ron mentally spat. It had nothing to do with Harry after all. He wasn't with Hermione, Snape was. Surely that was enough reason for Ron to stop feeling such a strange and irrational hatred for Harry. But it didn't stop. The fire was still in his chest. He could do nothing to get Hermione now; he could never take her off of Snape, he had one thing that Ron didn't. Experience. And that ruled all in this world of lust.

Ron shook his head. Why could he not shake this feeling towards Harry? Was it because he had been within the guy's shadow for years? Or was there something else going on that Ron was soon to discover?

Whatever it was, Ron didn't want to dwell on it any longer. He trudged along the frosted grass again, back towards the school building, knowing that his sleep would not be peaceful tonight. It would be disturbed and restless.

* * * *

In the morning, Ron could not focus. His thoughts kept drifting to what he had thought he had seen last night. Hermione in Snape's arms.

He shook his head violently, making himself dizzy so that he fell back on the bed and had to wait for the room to stop moving around his body. He must have dreamt it. A nightmare. That must have been what it was.

He entered the great hall later than everybody else, for once. Usually it was Harry that arrived late but, judging by the night that Ron had had, he was allowed to be 'fashionably' late.

He sat at the Gryffindor table, noticing that Hermione was gazing over at the teachers table at the top of the hall. He bared his teeth slightly in an un-human grimace before swallowing loudly and taking some toast.

"I'm quite proud of my wand." Harry said, holding his wand out in front of him, beaming like and elf that had just found an uninhabited toadstool.

"Hmmm." Was the only reply that Ron could be bothered to give that morning.

"What about Snape's?" Hermione said.

Ron raised an eyebrow.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. "I think Snape has a rather beautiful-"

"Willy." Ron interrupted, making Harry drop his wand onto the table whilst his mouth was open so wide that Concord could have flown in.

"W-You what?" Hermione gasped, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"I think you meant wand, Ron." Harry said, picking his own up from the floor where it had rolled.

"Nope," Ron shook his head. "No. I definitely meant Willy." He said in a malicious tone. "But, Hermione would know all about that, wouldn't you?" He turned to direct the conversation onto Hermione now.

She stuttered for a while before saying, "I'm going to lesson, now." And then turned to walk out of the great hall.

Harry gave Ron an expression of disgust before going in the same direction that Hermione had. Ron had truly discovered how to alienate people, having made both of his 'friends' walk away from him over one sentence. Was it really worth it? He had no reason not to hand them into Voldemort now.


	7. Chapter Seven: Loving Voices

"_For starters, sorry it's been such a long time since I have updated this story. I have been caught up with other tasks in life since I last updated. I hope that you enjoy this one all the same. __"_

Loving Voices-

Voldemort-

Voldemort was laid upon a dusty bed within the Shrieking Shack, gazing at the ceiling and thinking of how easily manipulated that Weasley boy was. It had been so easy for him to turn him to the 'Dark side', so to speak. He was pretty sure that Ron's father would have been so disappointed in him, but who was he to judge? It was Ron's path to choose and Ron's alone. Nobody else could shape his live, they could help him by placing the sign posts, giving him different directions to follow but, in the end, it was up to him to follow them or to turn off onto a different road completely.

"How much longer am I going to be staying with you, Sir?" The fat muggle whispered from the corner of the room, where he was surrounded by dust bunnies he had created in his boredom.

Voldemort took a deep breath. "Not much longer, muggle." He rolled over to face Dudley. "If I am going to be honest, I have got quite fond of you."

Dudley's face lit up. "Oh, Voldy. I have grown fond of you too. I never knew I could feel this way before I met you." He scampered across the floor, on his hands and knees to sit himself at Voldemort's feet.

He recoiled, plastering an expression of disgust on his face. "What are you talking about?!" He asked, his eyes wide with suspicion.

"Love, I'm talking about love. You love me too, right?" Dudley's eyes were glistening with joy as he stayed, knelt on the floor at Voldemort's feet, his hands clasped together almost like he was praying.

"No, muggle. I did not mean 'love'." Voldemort wrinkled his nose. "I do not have a heart to love, stupid amoeba."

Dudley's eyes filled with tears. "But...Voldy...You are the only one for me."

Voldemort's stomach bubbled uncomfortably. No one had ever told him that before. Not even the one that he had long ago wished would. "Dudley-"

Dudley had already launched himself upon Voldemort and was trying furiously to place his slimy lips upon Voldemort's cold ones.

Voldemort's hands were flailing in front of him, slapping at Dudley's fatty face frantically. "No! Stop! Please!" He screamed, his arms still flailing and his nostrils finding it hard to take in enough air in his panic.

"But I want you, Voldy." Dudley said in a muffled tone as Voldemort's hand was pushing his face in to a distorted fish replica.

Voldemort flailed even more. "Harassment! Fire!" He screamed before kicking Dudley to the floor. "No!" He said with finality. "I will not perform the Hanky-Panky with you!" He sat up and dusted off his cloak, just in case some flaky muggle dandruff had found its way onto it. "Filthy, non-magic creature!"

Dudley lowered his head and began to trace circles in the dust on the floor. "I don't know what came over me...I'm sorry, Master."

Voldemort stood and wandered around the room a few times. What was it with these modern people? Lust is uncontrollable and rules all in their minds. What ever happened to violence? Now that was a glorious thing. Taking a few defenceless muggles and dangling them in midair, making them scream and cry with confusion; now _that _was some good, clean fun that Voldemort enjoyed.

"You're lucky I didn't do that to you, boy." He said in a triumphant and happy voice, remembering the good old days always made him feel all bubbly and warm inside.

"Do what, Master?" Dudley asked, the circles in the dust now turning into spirals.

Voldemort shook his head and made a clicking noise with his tongue. He had forgotten that he had been talking to himself within his head again. He really needed to stop doing that; some people might mistake it for insanity. He was not insane, just visionary.

"It doesn't matter, muggle. If you perform the act that you did tonight upon me again, you may find out though." He pointed a chalky white finger at Dudley in a threatening manner.

He quivered amongst the dust. "I promise I will behave myself." He whispered, his eyes bulging with fear.

Voldemort made a disgruntled noise and then turned back to gazing at the patch of wall he had been whilst contemplating. The idea of performing such acts disgusted him these days. They made his stomach churn with sickness but he knew that he would not have felt like that a while ago. There had been one person who he had wanted to devote his life to, just one. Alas, circumstances got in the way of things. There were certain boundaries that he would have had to cross to be able to be with his one true love. Tom Riddle had been willing but his love had not. Teachers and students could not be together. It was redeemed wrong and this particular wizard had not seen that it was worth sacrificing his post for such a minor person as Tom. He was the only man who had seen Tom as he was, for who he was going to be. A great wizard with great power, he just never knew that he was going to become a greatly evil wizard.

He hit the wall with his fist. "I still love you, although I pretend I don't. I could never hurt you." He whispered to himself. So many people thought he was afraid to go near someone of such calibar. That was not it. He was afraid to hurt them. Albus Dumbledore made Voldemort the man was he was by rejecting his love and turning him away, leaving him in the bitter darkness alone. A place where voices would whisper to you to do things, evil things that would hurt many people. Wizard or muggle, they would be harmed by such things. And then this Potter boy came along and destroyed him, sending him to a place where the darkness got darker and the voices became more and more bitter.

He snarled under his breath. "Potter, prepare to die!"


	8. Chapter Eight: Betrayal

Betrayal - 

Ron Weasley – 

Ron walked through the corridors of Hogwarts School, feeling nauseous over the proposition Voldemort had given him. Handing Harry over to Voldemort felt like the wrong thing to do, scrap that. He knew it was the wrong thing to do. Harry had been his friend since the first day of the first year; it was ridiculous to act like this over such a simple sin, envy. The only reason that Ron had even felt this way in the first place was because he had believed that Harry was with Hermione, which he had soon discovered that she wasn't. It was Snape whom she had been playing around with. Even the thought of it made Ron shiver with repulsion. The idea of Snape's hands, over Hermione's body…

Ron physically shivered. He should stop torturing himself with these images but he didn't seem to be able to help it. The more that he didn't want to think about it, the more his brain plastered it all over his eyes. Maybe he needed some of that muggle stuff that made all the pain go away. All-hole or plant, was it?

He shook his head. He was not going to resort to muggle substances to solve his problems. He was going to have to face this by himself. Ron continued to wonder until he came to a large door. He pushed it open and walked outside. The cold and bitter air bit at his face, reflecting his inner feelings.

'_Pathetic fallacy,' _He thought to himself, shivering slightly at the cold air. He worked for a-quarter-of-an-hour when he saw a silhouette of a person sat on the grass about ten feet away from Hagrid's hut.

Ron, being his usual, overly-curious self, walked over to the shadowed figure. Once he had come level with them, he could see that it was Harry, clutching his scar.

"Ron, I can feel it. He's here Ron! Voldemort is here!" He said in short, sharp breaths.

Ron gritted his teeth. "He isn't here but I can make him come here, if you wish." He added the last words with a sly undertone.

"What are you talking about Ron?" Harry blurted, his hand still clutching his scar.

Ron raised his wand into the air, not yet shooting the sparks, teasing him. "I can summon the Dark Lord, right here, right now, with a few simple sparks from the end of my wand."

Harry gulped, still clutching his forehead and now moving his other hand to hold his mouth, almost like he was going to be sick.

"Do you not believe me, Harry?" He asked, trying his best to mimic the mean tone that Draco Malfoy could do oh-so-well. Doing this hurt Ron somewhere deep inside, in his heart. Did he really want to do this to his best friend? It hadn't even been him with Hermione, so he had no reason to be jealous or get revenge anymore.

"Ron, stop talking like this. He is _here_. I can feel him." He gasped, now almost rocking back and forth with the pain.

Ron swallowed hard. "Talk like what, Potter?" He circled Harry, keeping his wand pointed to the skies. "Are you saying that I sound crazy?" He taunted, now pointing his wand at Harry's temple.

Harry made a noise that sounded slightly strangulated, just opening his mouth and then closing it again.

"Where have you been going at night?" Ron pushed, poking the wand at Harry's cheek.

"I…" Harry screamed, clutching his head in agony.

"_Tell me where you have been going!_" Ron bellowed with more power than he had expected he could muster, lifting his wand into the sky.

"I've been..." Harry cried out again.

Ron was getting angry and before he could focus his anger to ask the question again, his wand erupted with red sparks.

A whirl of black smoke formed at Ron's side and a bald, pure white creature of evil stood next to him. "Hello, Harry. We meet again." Voldemort chuckled.


	9. Chapter Nine: Death's Beginning

**Death's ****Beginning: **

Voldemort- 

Voldemort stood over Harry Potter, pointing his wand at his head along with Ron Weasley. "You have done well, young Ronald. The title of Blood Traitor may be lifted from you yet." He hissed with satisfaction.

Ron nodded, bowed and then moved away from Harry Potter. "I have remembered where my allegiance is." He replied slyly, giving a quick glance to Harry as he did so.

The fat, hooded 'Death Eater' behind Voldemort stumbled and fell on its face. "Ow!" It cried as it pushed itself up onto its elbows.

"Please, muggle. This is a very far-fetched thing that I am doing; having muggle dressed in the robes of my disciples but that was just adding insult to injury." Voldemort complained, picking Dudley up by his armpits. "You just can't get the staff these days." He muttered whilst doing so.

"Hey, Voldemort, I just realised you have no nose!" Potter shouted as Voldemort helped dust off Dudley's cloak.

Voldemort hissed, he hated how cocky this boy could be. It would have made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, if he had any.

Dudley stared at his face. "You don't have a nose?" He asked in horror. "Well, how do you smell?"

Voldemort turned to the chubby muggle. "I don't know about me but I know that you smell terrible." He replied with almost a humorous lilt to his voice.

Ron snorted with malevolence.

Voldemort neared Harry, circling him like he was a lion and Harry was an antelope. His fingers nearly caressed Harry's head. His eyes were brimming with evil intentions. "You are powerless to me, Harry. I have even brought one of your _family_ members along for the ride." He raised his hand and sent a wave over to Dudley, whose hood flew off in a vicious manner to reveal his chubby, frightened face underneath.

"Why do you have Dudley?" Harry gasped, clutching his scar with the pain that Voldemort's closeness caused him.

"Well, you see that is because, believe it or not Harry, this muggle and I actually have something in common." Voldemort chuckled.

"You're both idiots?" Harry questioned smugly through his gasps of pain.

Voldemort crouched closer to Harry so that he was breathing in his face. "No, Potter. We both hate you." He replied before cackling manically.

"Well, Lord V, sir. I don't actually, completely hate it. I just -"

"Silence muggle." Voldemort snarled, pointing his wand at Dudley before shouting: '_Avada Kedavra_'.

The muggle's body was wrapped in green wires, spinning him through the air before he hit the ground with a loud bang.

Harry gasped, in both shock and pain this time. "Voldemort, how could you?" He cried.

"Easily," Voldemort said in a cocky manner, "I do not have a heart. I turned it into a Horcrux." He then cackled loud enough to make the night air ripple with evil.

"You'll never win, Voldemort." Harry hissed, fumbling around his jeans.

"Oh, no you don't!" Voldemort commanded, pointing his wand at Harry's head. "Now, Potter, do you want to die the same way your mother did, with some honour, or do you want to die like your muggle cousin, with _very_ little dignity?" Voldemort licked his lips in anticipation of the answer that was going to come.

"No one is going to die here today, Thomas Marvolo Riddle." A wise voice called from somewhere in the foggy darkness. Albus Dumbledore walked through the grounds to stand less than ten inches away from Voldemort.

"I am afraid, Albus, that you are too late, someone has already died tonight." Voldemort pointed to the heaped body on the floor that used to be a living Dudley. "But, I guess he doesn't count. It was only a muggle."

"Muggle or no, Voldemort, no one should have died here tonight and I am going to make sure that no one else does." Albus pointed his wand at Voldemort.

"Oh, dear Albus, are you really going to make me choose between killing you and Harry? Goodness, I don't think I would be able to. I would so enjoy killing you both."

Ron stepped forward, stalking Harry with his wand outstretched. He hastily placed it close to his ear. "I think I know which one I would enjoy to kill, Voldemort. May I?" He asked, pushing his wand almost through Harry's eardrum.

Voldemort made a strange gagging noise. "Do you really? He is my nemesis, you know." He said in an almost innocent tone.

Albus attempted to calm Ron. "Ronald, I will not let you kill your best friend." He said, raising his hands in a calming manner.

"Shut up, Dumbledore." Ron shouted, throwing _Petrificus Totalus_ at the elderly wizard.

Dumbledore fell to the ground, creating a dust cloud as he hit the dirty floor.

Whilst Ron was distracted with the immobilizing of Dumbledore, Voldemort attacked Harry with _Sectumsempra__._

Harry's body crumpled to the floor in a heap, blood oozing from his abdomen where large gashes had been placed.

Voldemort ran over to the slowly dying Harry. "Oh, thank you Severus for creating such a spell." He whispered, taking much delight in the painful demise of that boy. "The Boy Who Lived shall now _DIE_!" He cackled.

Ron stood over what remained of his friend as Harry bled out. "The famous Potter's legacy will not be completely." He laughed, his ginger hair shining in the moonlight.

"Young Weasley, you may just become the first ginger Death Eater." Voldemort cackled, placing his arm around the shoulders of Ron Weasley. He then waltzed over to where the motionless Dumbledore laid, his arms still bound to his body and in a rigid state.

Ron Weasley followed him. "I have no interest in him." He snarled, stopping in mid-walk and leaving Voldemort to continue closer the immobilized old man.

"Good," Voldemort chuckled, licking his lips. "That means all the more for me."

Ron just nodded, using a gesture that showed no emotion.

'_Avada Kerdavra_' Voldemort cried, watching Dumbledore fly through the air with a sickening grace. He ran over to the body and smiled in joy. "Oh, Albus, that will tech you for never loving me. What did matter if you were a professor and I only a student, it could have worked but it is your fault that you have driven me to this." He screamed, poking the dead flesh with his wand. "Now there are both dead!" He whispers with a dark malevolence which rippled through his body, along with his joy.

Ron made a noise of agreement under his breath; his arms folded as he watched the Dark Lord become overcome with glee.

"Now, it is time for _The Death Eaters' Reign_!" Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand to the sky and summoning the Dark Mark above the grounds of Hogwarts.

"_Sorry about the really cheesy joke there, I felt that it had to be written. __ I do hope that you enjoyed this and please Review, and if you're going to flame, please have the guts to leave your/a NAME. And I do hope that this chapter made you happy _**Loony-1995**_. __" _


	10. Chapter Ten: Death's Reign

**Death's Reign: **

Ron Weasley – 

_**One Year Later…**_

The world had changed significantly from the Muggles had know less than a year ago. The 'invasion' of the Wizards and Witches upon this land was gradual. They slowly crept in, stealing one Muggle at a time before they would kill them in secret. Soon, the Wizarding - world was no longer a secret, all the Muggleds knew that it existed and feared the beings with powers much greater than their own. Muggles were dragged out of their houses and killed in the streets. There were even groups who tried to stop us, to kill us themselves with primitive weapons made from metal, some were sharp and others were loaded with smaller pieces of metal that would penetrate the skin, infecting the body. The church managed many of these groups, claiming that Wizardkind were unholy and created by the devil. The groups fancied themselves as Slayers, calling themselves: Slayers of the Dark. How foolish they had been. The Death Eaters thwarted their futile attempts, losing only one member of their party, Rodoplhous LeStrange. He was stabbed through the heart with a primitive weapon of Mugglekind and died short and swiftly. Bellatrix was unharmed by the attack upon her husband, as we knew that her love lied with The Dark Lord himself. The Weasleys stood no chance when the Burrow was invaded by Death Eaters. The whole family were killed under the names of Blood Traitors. The Death Eaters newest member had not been attending this particular outing but had heard of how many had died. Only one of them escaped, his eldest brother, Bill. He was now a wanted man in the eyes of his partners. Fenrir Greyback had made his mark upon the man's face and was hunting for him along with his pack.

Ron sat upon the top of a ruined building wall, caressing the Dark Mark he had on the inside of his forearm. He smiled to himself as his fingers ran along the snake protruding from the mouth of the skull. This mark proved his loyalty to the Dark Lord, and he was proud of his transfer to the 'wining team'. His old life was no longer of much worry to him. His Mudblood love had perished during the Battle at Hogwarts. The feelings he had felt for her had disappeared long before her death, as he watched her limp body fall to the floor, her glazed eyes staring into nothingness, he felt no pain, no remorse, and most of all he felt no love for her. She was filth, and he could see that now. He had been blinded by the ideals of his father before, the Muggle lover. How could you love such ignorant people?

Ron looked up at the world that now was. From where he was sat, he could easily see the world below, there were Muggle shops alight from spells of destruction and the streets were almost empty of life, apart from the few cloaked figures of shuffling Wizards and Witches.

The Muggles had called this time 'The Apocalypse'. The Wizards knew that it was far from that, the world was only just beginning, the world that should have been, where Wizards ruled and Muggles did their biding, or faced death. And if a Wizard stood in the way of their operations, they would have to be obliterated. It was the only way to treat a blood traitor.

Sometimes, Ron did ache for the company that he had at Hogwarts. He would miss Neville and his strange love for that toad of his and he would miss Dean and his even stranger love for a thing called: 'Football'. Most of all, he would miss his younger sister, Ginny but she had been a traitor too. Her love for Harry Potter had been obvious, which infuriated Ron. He had had enough of living in that boy's shadow and to have his sister falling for him was juts like adding insult to injury.

A tapping of heels on the roof behind caught his attention and snapped him out of his daydreaming. Bellatrix stood on the top of the wall, wand held over her shoulder. "You seen anything, Ronald?" She asked in an amazingly calm and sane voice.

"Afraid not," Ron replied in a solemn voice, "just the ordinary,a Wizard or two making their shopping trips."

Bellatix made a scoffing sound in her throat. "Not much fun today then."

Ron shook his head. Things had been exciting a few months ago. Blood Traitors, Muggles and Mudbloods had run for their lives, making it a time filled with adrenalin rushes as the Deaths Eaters chased them through the streets.

"Look there!" Fenrir growled, almost making Ron jump as he was oblivious to his entrance.

In the street below, there was a small, shabby looking man with a sandwich board over his shoulders with the words: 'The End Is Nye', written on the front and, "Hell Is On Earth' written on the back.

"I smell a Muggle!" Fenrir growled, excitement smothering his voice.

"Hmmm… I've always fancied myself as a bit of a Hellhound." Bellatrix mused, re-reading his sign again. "I think the hunt has begun." She said, a sadistic smile spreading across her face.

"Certainly," Ron replied, preparing himself for the jump from the building.

Bellatrix let rip a disturbing war cry and sent the Dark Mark flying high in the air.

Screams of terror and panic sounded from below.

Fenrir howled to the hidden moon and threw himself of the building with a thud.

Bellatrix and Ron followed Fenrir, sprinting after him, heading in the direction of the Muggle that they had previously seen.

This was the adrenalin rush that Ron had been in need of. As spells flew everywhere, he smile maliciously, enjoying every single second of this murderous rampage.

"_Ohmygod, my baby's all grown up. :') The past months work is finally completed. I love this one so, and thank you ever so much to those of you who reviewed this, especially the 'Serial Reviewers'. :3 You guys made this Fanfic worth writing. _

_*Sniff Sniff*_

_I just might have to write a sequel to this. I love it too much to leave it at this, me thinks. :')". _


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